3 Ripples (Rewrite)
by SerpentBane007
Summary: During a botched teleportation spell, three Azerothian adventurers find themselves flung into the world of Alagaësia. What shockwaves will result from their arrival, and will new challengers rise to meet them? (I'm really shit at summaries). This story is a rewrite of my previous story, so feel free to review! Takes place between Legion and BFA.


Disclaimer: I own nothing here but my OCs, World of Warcraft belongs to Blizzard and the Inheritance Cycle belongs to Paolini. This takes place in the immediate aftermath of Legion and before the start of BFA. Enjoy and feel free to drop a review (or PM me if that's more comfortable). See A/N at the end for more details.

_Time is a tangled web. Try not to dwell on all the loose end. _

_\- Norzdomu_

Wenowa Summerhoof awoke slowly, eyes fluttering open as sunlight streamed through the windows across her face. She turned her head to the right, only to be greeted with a faint indention on the other half of the bed. 'Of course,' she thought, 'he's always up early.'  
The tauren slowly stretched her arms above her head, groaning with relief as the joints finally popped. Standing she grabbed a loose tunic and pants before leaving the bedroom, hooves clicking against the purple tiles. Even after so much time in Dalaran, she still found it odd how the other races preferred stone and metal to wood and earth. Slipping on the clothes she noticed the open doors to the balcony, and the worgen male leaning against the railing.

"You're up earlier than usual, and that's saying a lot for you." Wenowa called as she approached. The worgen turned his head slightly, the cold blue orbs that were his eyes flitting to her before turning back to look out on the floating city.

"I slept enough before I got brought back." He replied, voice echoing with the hollow sound of metal on metal, yet tempered by some softness. "Besides, I was thinking."

"Worrying you mean." Wenowa playfully retorted as she draped her arms behind him in a loose hug, resting her head against his shoulder. "You worry too much Reimar."  
"How can I not in this world?" He questioned, though he allowed a small smile to form as he felt her warmth seep into his cold flesh. A large arm moving behind to drape across her shoulders.

"We've defeated the Burning Legion at last. I think that would be cause for celebration." Wenowa replied with her own smile.

"We did, last I checked that party lasted two days. And then there was our private celebration." The worgen suppressed a chuckle at those memories.

"Then why do you worry dear?"

"I'm always worrying about you, about us. Even if there was no war for a thousand years I would worry." Reimar replied in smooth, if accented, Taur-ahe.

"You spoil me, it feels so good to hear my mother tongue." Wenowa laughed, before giving Reimar a light peck on the cheek which he returned. "But you don't have to worry about the next moment, sometimes just...stay in this one." Tauren and worgen stood there as seconds stretched into minutes, no words being said. A quiet understanding as the morning sun cause the city to glitter like a vibrant reef.

"I hate the ruin the moment," Reimar eventually broke the silence, disentangling himself from Wenowa's arms, "but we have to go to work today. We should get ready to meet Myra." He turned to walk into the main house and down the stairs to where he stored his many collections. Wenowa stood there for another moment, smiling as she looked over the city before she returned to the main hallway. Taking a left turn she entered the room where she kept her things and looked over the set of armor on the stand.

Unlike most druids, who prefered simple robes and the occasional piece of leather armor, Wenowa's was a full set of leather armor, crafted in the style of the Houjin faction of Pandaren. Deep reds were bordered by a softer shade of black, the occasional bead or symbol on the molded leather. She reminded herself that she'd have to get Hoi something to repay her on her next nameday. She slowly put on each piece, leather fitting snugly against her skin before placing the wide brimmed red hat carefully between her horns, obscuring much of her face is she pulled it down. She picked up her Klaxxi glaive, rubbing her thumb against the bladed edge as she often did. A needless ritual, for the hardened amber of the Mantid rarely needed a whetstone, but it was one of many she had acquired from her mate.

"You want me to leave without you?" Reimar's metallic voice echoed up the stair.

"By the Earthmother, yes I'm coming." She rolled her eyes, grabbing the small bag of herbs and potions that she always carried with her in case of emergencies. Descending the stairs she saw the death knight waiting by the door, who visually could not be more different from herself. Where her hide was a soft and warm brown, his was jet black and cold. Where she wore sturdy leather, he wore saronite that was at once heavy yet light as a feather. The deathlord plate was all deep blacks and greens, emitting a sickly green glow. Across his back was the massive curved sword he had taken from the clutches of a doomguard in the final days of the war against the Legion. One he had quickly grown accustomed to, so similar it was to his previous favorite, the artifact Apocalypse. "Is all that really necessary? I don't want half the population to die of shock. Again."

"Love you too." He replied with a smirk, leaving his helmet behind as they stepped out into the busy streets of the city. "Besides, that will be an asset where we're headed."

"And where exactly is that?" Wenowa asked, raising her voice to be heard above the crowds. They stood head and shoulders among much of the populace, and they were aware of eyes on them at all times. Just as they had been for years.

"The vrykul in Howling Fjord are causing trouble again, likely cause of what happened in Stormheim. We've been tasked with thinning them out a bit and figuring out who's vying to be their new king." He replied, shooting a glare at a passing blood elf who stared a bit too long at them. The thin mage somehow went even paled than normal and hurried away as Wenowa shook her head. He had probably been curious about the strange nature of the duo; after all, the dominance of humans, blood elves, and gnomes made their races stand out even more.

Not that Wenowa could blame any of them. Cross faction relationships such as theirs were very rare, and never between their two races, though they had slowly sloughed off most of their faction allegiance. Not to mention the general animosity between druids and death knights. That said, even if she disliked the layout of the magocratic city and a...handful of its citizens, Wenowa could not deny that the atmosphere of its streets reminded her of her of home. People scurried about their business, snippets of conversation flying through the air like birds through a forest, old friends and loves reuniting or going about their business while strangers shared greetings with others. It was so much like Thunder Bluff…

The tauren was snapped from her musings by a tap of a metal gauntlet on her shoulder. "Stay here, I'll get Myra." Reimar whispered, walking towards the secluded patch of grass where followers of the Church of the Holy Light prayed. By the time Wenowa processed what was said Reimar was already entering the area, worshippers parting around him with looks of horror and unease as they moved closer to their small alters. She was certain that this would not end well.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Myra Emsworth yawned as she was oken by the soft chiming of the bell next to her bed. The gnomish device swung and sounded like a real bell, though mercifully it did not set off a headache. Pushing the small button on its top the sound began to die out as the human girl rolled out of bed, smacking her lips as she tried her best to shake the cobwebs from her mind. She took her white and gold robes off the hook and put them on first, habit from her days in the Northshire Abbey. She spent the next hour or so getting herself ready, her copper hair put in a simple ponytail before she grabbed her meal from a nearby stand.

"Looks like you got a long day planned, you're never fully dressed this early." The draenei male chuckled as he stood behind the stand, the aroma of meats and spices making Myra's mouth water.

"Got a mission to do today with some friends, they're supposed to fill me in." She replied with a smile, she'd known the man since she moved to Dalaran at the outbreak of the war.

"The usual it is then." He laughed as soon he handed the priestess a bowl of hearty stew and a hunk soft sourdough bread. "This one's on me." The words stopped Myra's hand when it was halfway to the coin purse at her side.

"Oh come on Eiostra, you know I can afford it." Her words fell on deaf ears as Eiostra shook his head with a smirk.

"Nope, you've got a busy few days ahead of you. Just promise you'll tell me all about it when you get home alright?"

"Fine, you win." Myra shared a laugh with the draenei before she practically inhaled her food, within twenty minutes she had returned her bowl and gathered her staff and begun making her way to the patch of grass that was open to all worshippers. Finding her usual spot she sat in the lush grass, eyes closed as she hummed a simple prayer to the Light. She was young for a priest, newly elevated to the clergy when the Legion invaded Azeroth. 'Light.' She thought. 'You have set before me many hardships, and yet I have endured. But I sense that new conflict is coming. Please, give me the resolve to to mend the wounds between others preserve the peace you won for us.' She ended her informal prayer and slowly placed her small figure, a miniature Narru, back into the small bag besides her. Myra didn't hold as much value for the stricter ceremony of her elders, preferring the informality that made her feel closer and more protected.

"BOO!" A metallic, dead voice tore her from her state of peace as an equally chilling hand grasped her shoulder, causing the poor girl to shrieked and tumble forward, eyes shooting open. She jumped to her feet in a panic, only to see Reimar rolling on the ground, howling in laughter as her fellow worshippers shot withering glares at the worgen.

"Damn you Reimar!" She shouted, calming her racing nerves. "Can't you just tap my shoulder like a normal person?!"

"I could, but where's the fun in that?" He asked, picking himself off the ground with continued chuckles.

Myra scowled in response, grabbing her staff of simple white wood and toppled with a small clear crystal. "Lets just go already." She said as she left, mouthing an apology to the people around her before walking towards Wenowa standing at the edge of the area. "It's good to see you though." She said with much more warmth as did her best to hug the tauren who towered above her.

"Likewise." Wenowa said, returning the embrace. "Reimar, lets go before you start a fight here. I'd rather not have a repeat of last week." She deadpanned as said worgen trudged back and they resumed their walk.

"That paladin insulted me. He deserved it. That bastard just wanted…" He continued to mutter to himself as Wenowa filled Myra in on their mission.

Ten minutes later the trio arrived at their destination: the Violet Gate, the main portal hub open to members of both the Alliance and Horde. Pushing their way through the crowds, the group eventually found a mage who was not busy. The thin human saw them and quickly beckoned them over, robes hanging loosely on his gaunt frame to an extent that he almost resembled a Forsaken. "Greetings. How may I be of service to you today?"

"We need one portal to Kamagua, Howling Fjord, Northrend." Wenowa replied.

"...All three of you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the druid as his eyes moved between the odd trio.

"Yes. Is that _inconvenient_ for you?" Reimar growled, one hand closing into a fist.

"N-no. No problem at all." The man replied hastily. "I'm just a simple portal mage, now follow me." He hurried up the stairs with unexpected speed.

"You don't need to be so protective every time this happens." Wenowa whispered to the worgen, who only shrugged in response.

"Ah! Here we are." The man exclaimed as they made it to an empty room on the third floor. "Now, stand in front of me while I prepare the spell." He said as he stretched his hands out, purple arcane energy coalescing around them as he moved them in a complex series of movements. As the group stood before him the energy around his hands flashed and was momentarily replaced with bronze and silver colors, before returning to their natural purples and pinks.

"Um, what was that?" Myra asked.

"It's fine, arcane energy has just been a bit finicky since Dalaran moved above the Broken Isles." The mage quickly assured them.

"Then why don't we just-" Reimar was cut off the as portal began to form in front of them, though nothing on the other side could be seen. As the still nervous adventurers prepared to step into it, the portal vibrated violently, once again becoming twinged with silver and bronze.

"That's odd… give me a moment." The mage muttered, furrowing his brow as he redoubled his efforts and the magic around his burned brighter.

"No wait I don't this this is a goo-" Reimar protested before the portal began to extend towards them, now shaking even more violently and fluctuating between its healthy purple and the silver spreading across it. With a loud crack the portal and adventurers disappeared, the mage thrown backwards into the stone wall. When he stood and regained his bearings the thin mage realized what had just happened: he had, through no fault he could identify, just created an unstable portal that had sent three of Azeroth's prized adventurers to Light knows where.

"I'm so fucking dead." He gasped as he rushed towards the Violet Citadel to find Khadgar and the Kirin Tor.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Myra, wake up." Myra heard as she slowly came to, feeling like she had just been thrown about by an ogre. Groaning she opened her eyes and saw that she was in a sparse forest, propped up against a tree.

"My head..." She groaned as she started to stand, looking over to Reimar, who stood several feet away with his massive curved sword held loosely in his hand. "What happened?"

"To put it simply," Reimar growled, lips peeling back from his teeth, "that absolute IDIOT of a mage messed up his teleportation spell and we're in some Light-forsaken land called Alagaesia."

"Wait…" Myra said, racking her brain, "how long was I out? And how do you know that much already?"

"About half a day, me and Wenowa questioned," The human girl sighed, she knew exactly what the death knight's interpretation of questioning entailed, "a few soldiers of the 'Empire' that rules these parts. They told us a bit about the Empire, as well as some unintelligible babblings about some so called dragon riders, a group of rebels called the Varden and some version of elves." Reimar waved his clawed hand dismissively.

"There's elves here! Then this must be some alternate version of Azeroth! That means-"

"Nope." Reimar cut her off. "It's not Azeroth, Wenowa says it doesn't 'feel right,' according to her druid magic. Plus I can't use my death gate to Acherus."

"Are you sure?" Myra asked, the idea of being on a completely new world brought back foul memories from Argus.

"Here, I'll show you." Reimar huffed before striding a few steps away and raising his hands. Dark magic swirled around his hands as he began weaving shapes in the air, corresponding to the glowing runes on his weapon. A black gate appeared to take shape for a moment, before dissipating along with the aura around the death knight. "Convinced?"

Before Myra could respond a large horned bird dove out of the sky, wind rushing as its wings shot open to slow its descent, green energy briefly enveloped its form as it approached the ground and expanded. When it did make contact with the ground the energy faded and Wenowa strode out, adjusting her wide brimmed hat.

"You're back. What did you find?" Reimar asked the druid.

"Well I scouted out that city like you suggested, and… well a dragon not quite like the ones we know tore the roof of the castle open and escaped with three people on its back. One of them was unconscious and one looked like he'd been starved for weeks." Wenowa said, still in slight disbelief at what had happened to them.

"Think they're with these rebels?" Reimar asked, to which Wenowa gave a simple nod. "In that case, we should probably get on good terms with them."

"Wait." Myra cut in. "What about the soldiers? They'll undoubtedly be searching for them."

"I doubt they can catch up with them on dragonback." Wenowa replied. "We have a head start, and I saw the direction the dragon was travelling. I'll guide us from the air."

"And if the search parties catch up I can thin them out a bit." Reimar laughed as Wenowa shifted into her bird form once more, though holding at a relatively lower height. "Though I'm afraid you'll have to ride with me." The worgen said to Myra as he whistled into the distance, his deathcharger appearing from the treeline. Its decayed form giving off only a slight smell, as green flames enveloped its hooves and it turned a glassy dead eye to Myra.

"N-no." Myra stuttered as she stood and pressed herself back against the tree. Her instincts screaming at her to run as far away from the undead creature as possible. "I c-c-can't I'm a priestess I-"

"You don't have a choice." Reimar deadpanned as he climbed onto the large horse. "Unless you want to walk however many leagues that dragon travels." Myra swallowed past the lump in her throat as she reluctantly climbed into the saddle behind him. With that they took off after Wenowa's receding form and, hopefully, more answers.  
A/N: So, hello again to any of my old readers. As I said in the summary, this is a rewrite of 3 Ripples. My passion for that story has been reignited recently, but I felt that I needed to make changes rather than try to steam on ahead. Thus, here we are o readers' mine. Please, feel free to review/PM and I will try to keep some sort of schedule to these updates (one can dream am I right?). See you next time!


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